


if i don't go to hell when i die i might go to heaven

by noodoo



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crimson Flower, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Spoilers, feral!byleth, kind of, no mentions of gender so byleth can be whoever u want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 03:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20463995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodoo/pseuds/noodoo
Summary: "You’ve never felt yourself capable of such cruelty. If war had been a lesson in mercy, this is an entirely different beast."Post-Crimson Flower Route, Thales is held captive and Byleth loses control.





	if i don't go to hell when i die i might go to heaven

When you were younger, Jeralt and the other mercenaries had always taught you to finish the job quick. In the heat of battle, all that mattered was doing what needed to be done. Mercenaries didn’t have time to worry about their feelings about killing. You’d seen the light in countless eyes die out, and swiftly cut down even those who deserved less than a quick death. And luckily for you, it had always come easy. Emotions felt so buried underneath the surface it was always as if they had never existed. You were never quick to laugh, or cry, or feel.

Until Garegg Mach, that is. After a life of living by the sword, all of the feelings that had been dormant for so long had begun bubbling up, slowly but surely as you taught your students day by day. You’ll never forget the first time you had led your house into a real battle, the horror on Linhardt’s face as he took his first life. The image is hard to erase from your memory, and the pain felt like it was your own. Your students’ feelings had become your own, from Bernadetta’s social anxiety to Dorothea’s insecurities about her social status. You listened on and off the battlefield, finally _ feeling _, even if they weren’t entirely your own thoughts.

And then, there was Edelgard. From the moment you saved her life in Remire, right at the beginning of it all, there was a connection between you two. While you played the role of professor of the Black Eagles, Edelgard and you only became closer. She was ambitious and strong, and ready to do anything to meet her goals. When she told you about the years spent undergoing Crest experimentation and the death of her siblings, your still heart tugged at something it never had before. There was a maddenning feeling beneath the cool exterior, one that made you wish the power of the Divine Pulse could help you uproot her from her past.

Jeralt was the final straw. As tears fell down your cheek and onto his face as he took his last breaths, you vowed to take down every last person responsible. Choosing Edelgard after that was easy. She had her purpose, and through her, you had yours, too. Together, you could defeat the corrupt Church of Seiros and then, when the moment was right and the flames of war had become all but cinders, Those Who Slithered In the Dark.

The Black Eagle Strike Force had made quick work of the Agarthans, attacking when they least expected it. The cool flame that had ignited in you during the battle allowed you to maim and capture _ him _. Now, you finally have your moment. You’ve never felt yourself capable of such cruelty. If war had been a lesson in mercy, this is an entirely different beast.

Thales kneels in front of you, head bowed and neck wrapped tightly in a thick iron cuff chained to the ground in three places, short enough in length to keep him on his knees. His ankles, sitting under his thighs are chained as well, heavy metal bolting through the stone floor. Hubert had suggested his hands be cut off before he was dragged into this dungeon, to prevent him from casting any more magic, and you had gladly volunteered. He hasn’t spoken since he watched his followers get mercilessly cut down, and hasn’t so much has glanced at you or Edelgard since you’ve chained him up. Even with his eyes blank and devoid of feeling, you can just _ tell _ when he’s looking at you. He looks pathetic on the ground now, his white hair matted with blood, his pale skin filthy, stripped bare to nothing but threads. To think that this man, this _ monster _, had been behind all of the devastation across Fodlan. The mighty Lord Arundel, Thales, leader of Those Who Slithered, reduced to a weak, powerless, prisoner.

Edelgard stands next to you, eyes steely and fists clenched. Here in the cell deep underneath the Imperial castle, covered in centuries’ old dust and mildew, neither of you wear your armor. A torch flickers from the wall to your left, casting a reddish glow on the room. From where you stand, you can see the ring you gave her, your father’s ring, on her scarred hand. At the sight, every emotion you had quietly buried for the past six years begins raging up. 

Edelgard was never one for rash anger, but something in you takes over and you strike Thales directly across the face. Even without the goddess’ power, you know you’re strong after years of training, yet he doesn’t flinch, and continues staring at the ground, angrily, holding onto his last shred of pride.

In all of the battles in your lifetime, you have never wanted to hurt someone so badly. To kill was one thing, but to hurt feels like an entirely different matter. You want to watch it all happen, to watch the hope of living drain from his eyes, relishing in it. Now, with the real war over, there is more than enough time. There is no need for hurried executions. Really, what else did you and Edelgard come down here for? Neither of you have any questions that need answering, not when the wounds of war are still fresh on your hearts. You didn’t capture him to end things quickly, not when you already had chance after chance to do that. Maybe she can sense your troubling thoughts, and the wickedness creeping up.

“Look at me,” Edelgard says to him, her face darkening. In the crimson glow, she looks just like she did on the battlefield, indomitable and clad in scarlet wings.

You hit Thales again, this time splitting his lip, blood beginning to ooze onto your knuckles. Still, nothing. The rage inside of you feels palpable, and you feel like a dragon, metaphorical steam unfurling from your nostrils. Suddenly, Lady Rhea doesn’t seem like such a strange beast anymore, not when heat seems to rise off your skin in sweltering waves. 

You look back towards Edelgard, trying to read her expression. Here in the flickering light of the fire, her eyes look like they’re hiding a mix of anger, awe, and something else you can’t read. 

“I’d always imagined delivering the sentence myself,” she says, noticing your questioning gaze.

“Is this how you imagined it?”

“In one iteration, yes,” she responds coolly, “but there were many others.” Hearing her say those words sends a chill down your back, and you can only imagine every violent fantasy Edelgard had entertained as she watched her siblings get dragged away to be experimented on, one by one. You don’t know how she can keep herself together here, or why she hasn’t lashed out at Thales once. It doesn’t matter right now, because luckily, you feel bloodthirsty enough for the both of you. Two decades and some’s worth of raw emotion are exploding at your seams, ready to do anything, no matter how cruel or depraved, to make this monster pay for what he had done.

This time it’s Edelgard who hits him, roughly reaching out to grab him by the hair and lift his head up. Even through his cold demeanor, his face looks weak, the skin loosely hanging from his bones after days of being starved. His white beard all but wisps, so matted it barely looked like hair anymore. Still, he stares off into the dark, refusing to meet your gaze. That wretched pride of his would have to be beaten out.

“I said, _ look _ at me,” Edelgard says again through gritted teeth, tilting his head up towards her, anger barely contained. When you killed Dimitri, she had once told you that the Edelgard that cried had died long ago, too. It wasn’t true, you learned after almost dying at the end of the war, but she still tried to hold up that persona as Emperor. Now, her lilac eyes are focused but glossy, overwhelmed by the memories of her childhood and the damage done to her. He _ would _ pay.

You hit him harder this time, knocking a tooth out, and you’re rewarded with the sound of a grunt as he spits up blood. Edelgard keeps his head up, grip tight through his hair. The chain on his neck rattles on the stone floor as she tries to keep him steady through the blow, echoing throughout the dungeon. Down here, there is nothing but the everlasting darkness of winding hallways and chambers to keep you company. Hubert had searched meticulously for any rats, killing them all on sight when he knew you and Edelgard would be down here.

“Say something,” you demand angrily, rubbing blood off of your knuckles. For the first time, he lifts his eyes towards you, expression unchanging.

“I have nothing to say to you,” he says, and then looks over to Edelgard. “Or you, _ dear niece _.” His smile is twisted, clearly looking to get a rise out of her. You don’t even have time to look at her before your mind twists and contorts.

The fire of fury is blinding this time, white hot in your vision, completely unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced. When you fought Kronya, the anger was below the surface, giving way to the cool, collected mercenary you had always been, quick to finish a job. It had been the same when you fought the Immaculate One, calm and precise, so as not to let emotions get in the way of your goal. 

Maybe it’s your now-beating heart that sends jolts through your body, or perhaps you were always a bomb looking to explode. You take one look at him and remember everything, and in your rage you grab one of the chains binding him and slam him into the ground, loosening Edelgard’s grip. Her expression looks like a pained mix of satisfaction and fright as you punch him down into the stones, blood spilling on the ground.

All you can think about is the war, how you had to kill your former students even after begging them to surrender, and you strike him. The tiny splatters of blood are warm on your cheek.

You strike him again. You imagine Dimitri and the rest of the Lions and the Tragedy of Duscur, so much senseless violence orchestrated by this monster. An entire Kingdom, driven mad by trauma they could never heal from. The look on Dedue’s face as he transformed into a beast burns in your sight. Edelgard stands above you, hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.

You strike him again. The image of Edelgard, trapped in a dark room, being cut open by dark mages floods your mind. Your knuckles begin to hurt dully in the back of your mind, but physical sensation has been mostly muted. You can see her, crying, begging to be let out of her chains. These memories that still haunt her in her sleep today, that haunt _ you _ in turn.

You strike him again. He grunts again, face bloodied, and coughs up more teeth. The sound is intoxicating, and you drink it up hungrily, hoping for more. Jeralt flashes in your mind, how you had tried to use the Divine Pulse to save him but Thales intervened. The pain of having to watch him die not once, but twice, and now a third in incredibly vivid memory, feels too raw to be contained.

You strike him again. You’re panting now, feeling like a caged animal let out. It feels like every moment in your life has led up to this, like every tear you never shed in all your years crescendos into this single moment. Edelgard’s grip on your shoulder is steady, but you can feel her trembling slightly.

You strike him again, and this time you feel the _ crunch _ of his nose breaking underneath your knuckles. His grunts are clearly becoming more labored as he tries to breathe in between blows. His pale, bloodied stumps try to reach out as a last ditch survival instinct to get you off of him, but Edelgard crouches down and pins his arms to the ground, watching the horror unfold. With the torchlight shining behind her now, her face is cast in shadow.

You strike him again, and again, and again. Thales’ face starts to become unrecognizable, just a mass of bloodied skin and tissue. His arms struggle against Edelgard’s grip, a weak and futile attempt to fight against her resolve, and his legs thrash against the restraints. The chains rattle on the ground like a symphony, filling your ears with the sweet sound of struggle.

You strike him again. A pool of blood is beginning to surround his head. The scars on Edelgard’s hands are barely visible against the red that’s begun to stain them. With every _ crunch _ and _ crack _ that reverberates in the cell, you can hear the frightened whispers of the other mercenaries after watching you on the battlefield. You _ are _ the Ashen Demon, and you will not stop.

You strike him again.

And again.

And again. Thales’ breathing appears to have stopped, and it looks like he no longer thrashes against Edelgard’s grip. You’re breathless now, but the visions keep flooding your mind like ink pouring down your eyes. His face is barely visible behind the white fury that clouds you, but your arms move like muscle memory now, stopping not even to breathe.

You strike him again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And _ again _. Edelgard’s face is covered in little splatters of blood, her face dark but looking at you in concern. Gods, how you wish you could take it all away. You can’t tell when it started, but tears are streaming down your face. The salty liquid coats your mouth, and the taste starts to bring you back down from your rage. 

You strike him again anyway. Even though the anger starts to fade, replaced by something else you can’t find the words for, your vision is still blurry. The intensity of feeling you’d felt before doesn’t really subdue, but shifts towards something even more painful and raw, and you can feel your tears become full on sobs. 

You strike him again. This one is much weaker, as if all the strength had begun draining from you the moment the tears started falling. You can barely hold back the choked noise you make.

You strike him again, and it barely moves his lifeless head. Everything in your vision is red and black, blurring together as you try to blink the tears away and regain your sight. If only the anger could return with it unrelenting strength, instead of whatever _ this _ is. Your body shakes as the last flash of passion fades away.

You try to strike him again, but instead you feel Edelgard’s arms around you, holding you tight from behind. In the rush, you didn’t even see her move from where she was to kneel beside you, face resting on your shoulder. Reality rushes towards you like the ground after a long fall, and there she is, waiting to catch you with strong arms. Her silvery white hair cascades down her head and tickles the bit of exposed skin above your shoulder.

“It’s over,” she says quietly against your neck. Finally, through a few blinks, you can see the bloody aftermath of your rampage. The sleeves of your cloak are stained red, and your knuckles are raw and bruised, covered in a mix of Thales’ and your own blood. His face is completely unrecognizable at this point, just a reddened head on a lifeless, handless body, slumped over and chained in five places. Edelgard lets her arms fall back to her sides and turns to face you, a hint of nervousness in her expression.

“I’ve never seen you that way, professor,” she says, dropping her gaze to look at the bloodied body. “It was everything I had dreamed of yet… I was afraid I might lose you to that darkness.” 

“He can’t hurt us any more,” you respond, trying to sound self assured, but self conscious about your lapse of self control. She is no stranger to cruelty, but the thought of her seeing you in that state makes you shudder. Edelgard doesn’t respond, her eyes still focused on what remained of Thales. The flame flickers again, making the shadows dance on the stone and filling the room with the sound of something besides your own thoughts.

You wipe the remaining moisture from your eyes using a part of your sleeve that hasn’t been stained, and reach out to grab her cheek, thumb stroking gently. The motion leaves a small trail of blood on her cheek, and from her eyes you can tell that her steely resolve had broken amidst the chaos. You never want to see Edelgard cry again.

“I’m still here with you,” you say firmly, hoping she can sense every bit of your emotions, like you’ve intimately felt hers. She places her hand over yours on her cheek, and you can feel the cool metal ring rest on your fingers.

“Thank you, my t-- my love,” she responds, finally meeting your eyes. Even in the cool, dank air, she radiates a warmth, the kind you only see in private moments together.

In the three times before when you’d almost been lost, you’d seen Edelgard’s face after waking, keeping you steady. Having a beating heart had come with its caveats, like opening the floodgates of your emotions, but you feel more complete now than you ever have. Here you both sit, deep below the surface of Enbarr, alive and together. No one would hurt her, would hurt _ you _, ever again.

The beauty in raging flames isn’t lost on you as you glance from her bloodied face to the remains of Thales, her hand still on yours. At least for the moment, you can close your eyes and imagine nothing but the two of you, in a world where neither of you have to lose yourselves.

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the song _bad bad things_ by ajj


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